


Depositum Custodi

by JohnAmendAll



Category: Dark Towers (Look and Read), JAMES M. R. - Works
Genre: 500 prompts, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-01
Updated: 2013-03-01
Packaged: 2017-12-04 00:29:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/704394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JohnAmendAll/pseuds/JohnAmendAll
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Miss Hawk comes across another clue to treasure.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Depositum Custodi

**Author's Note:**

> Part of a '500 Prompts' meme. Prompt 215, from [lost_spook](http://archiveofourown.org/users/lost_spook): "Out of sight, out of mind. - Lord Dark (Dark Towers)"
> 
> For more information on the mysterious stained-glass figures, I recommend the M R James story "[The Treasure of Abbot Thomas](http://www.fadl12200.pwp.blueyonder.co.uk/abbot.html)". Though James, being properly discreet, names the owner of the chapel only as "Lord D—."

"And this is the chapel," Lord Dark said. 

Miss Hawk gazed around, her eyes alive with a sharp curiosity. "What fascinating windows. Are those..." She peered at the stained-glass saints. "Are those _letters_ on their cloaks?" 

"That's right." Lord Dark glanced up at the figures' letter-edged robes. "They were discovered in Victorian times. Looks like just a jumble of nonsense, doesn't it? But it's quite simple to read, once you know the trick." 

Miss Hawk had already got her notebook out to jot down the letters, but her face fell as she realised that someone had got there ahead of her. 

"It's been deciphered?" she asked. 

"Yes: there's a family manuscript in my study with the exact translation, but I think I can remember the gist of it. It's the clue to buried treasure. Ten thousand gold pieces hidden in a well, somewhere in Germany. Koblenz, was it? Somewhere around there. That's where my ancestor bought the glass. You'll have noticed it's typical German work, of the early sixteenth century." 

Whether or not Miss Hawk had, in fact noticed, what she said was "Was the treasure ever found?" 

"Not by my family. My great-grandfather deciphered the inscription, but that was many years after it was originally discovered. He did go to wherever it was and followed the directions, out of curiosity more than anything else, but there was nothing in the well — if it even was the right well. If there had been any treasure, someone else had got there first." 

"What a disappointment for him." 

"Maybe, but he doesn't seem to have minded. I can look you out his journals, if you like. Mainly brass rubbings, and some sketches and photographs of some interesting ruins." 

"Another time, perhaps." Miss Hawk sounded abstracted, her eyes still glancing from one inscription to the next. 

"I know. You carry on here — there are some miserere seats I think you'll be interested in — and I'll go and find those journals." 

"If you like," Miss Hawk said carelessly. 

⁂

"Hello." 

Lord Dark looked up from his ancestor's journal to see that his son's young friend was standing in the doorway. What was her name? Trixie? No, Tracey. 

"Good morning," he said. "I take it you're looking for Edward?" 

"We're exploring the gardens," Tracey said. 

Lord Dark nodded. "You'll have to be careful of the brambles. I'm afraid it's a bit overgrown, but there are one or two interesting pieces of statuary." He flipped through the pages of the journal, then looked up again at the sound of a footstep. "Ah. Miss Hawk, there you are. This is the journal I was telling you about." 

"Fascinating." Miss Hawk said, coolly. 

"This is my great-grandfather's photograph of the abbey ruins... and this is the well-head, where the treasure was. He's sketched it, too. Quite an elaborate carving, wouldn't you say, for the period?" 

"I... suppose so." 

"My great-grandfather certainly thought so. In fact, when he got home he made a copy of it, from his sketches. It's in the Sunk Garden." His Lordship ran his finger down the handwritten notes. "'If Steinfeld can have a treasure well, why not Dark Towers?'" 

Miss Hawk looked up, her interest caught. "Why not indeed?" 

"Anyway, I'll take this back to the study now." Lord Dark closed the journal and rose to his feet. "I'm sure Edward will be down in a few minutes." 

⁂

Lord Dark set down his hammer and chisel at the sound of cheerful voices and hurrying feet. A moment later, his son arrived, in the company of Tracey and her dog. 

"Did you have a nice walk?" he asked, politely. 

"Miss Hawk made us show her the Sunken Garden," Edward said. "She wanted to see the treasure well." 

"I don't think she saw much of it. It had grass and ivy all over it," Tracey added. 

"A sad consequence of impoverishment," Lord Dark said solemnly. 

"It looked very big. Much bigger than the well near the house." 

"That's because it's a copy of an old well in Germany," Edward said. "It was a big one, so great-great-grandfather made this one to match. Except it doesn't go down as far... isn't that right, father?" 

"Quite correct. It's only about ten feet deep or so. That's still deep enough to be dangerous, of course. When you were little we didn't let you near it in case you fell in." 

"It looked as if some of the carvings were missing." Tracey scratched her head. "Except they looked as if they'd always been missing." 

"Again, that's because it's a copy. Some of the carvings were missing from the original. Probably stolen for someone's collection." 

"Who'd want bits of an old well?" Tracey said. "They must have been crackers." 

Edward made a conscious effort to change the subject. "What's that you're carving, father?" 

"Originally, it was going to be a frog." Lord Dark ran his hand over the half-formed block of marble. "I think I may have embellished it a little." 

Tracey half-closed her eyes and peered at the block. "It looks like those things on shields." 

"I don't think I've ever seen a heraldic frog," Edward said. "Come on, Tracey. We need to see what the Fr—" 

The dog barked, pointedly. 

"Well, we should go to the Red Bedroom." 

They clattered off. Lord Dark watched them go, then turned back to his sculpture. Tracey was right, he thought. Definitely some influence from heraldry there. If nothing else, it would explain the claws. 

⁂

Tracey had been prevailed upon to stay for lunch. She'd doubtless been a friend of Edward's long enough not to expect a lavish baronial spread, but she seemed happy enough with sandwiches, fruit cake and lemon squash. After lunch, she and Edward had disappeared into the garden again; the sky threatened rain, but as yet, none had fallen. 

The moment they were gone, Lord Dark dismissed them from his mind, and returned to his sculpture. He hardly noticed the passage of time, or the clouds gathering in the sky, and didn't look up until Edward and Tracey reappeared. 

"Hello again," he said. He glanced out of the window. "Is it raining?" 

"It looked like it might," Edward said. "So we thought we'd better get raincoats." 

"Miss Hawk's out there too," Tracey added. "She said she was going to explore the well in the Sunk Garden. She was wearing a boiler suit and a yellow hat with a light on it." 

"You know, like a coal miner." 

"Really?" Lord Dark looked slightly surprised. "I don't see why she'd want to look inside the well. All the carving's on the outside." 

"You said it was a treasure well," Tracey said. "Maybe she thinks there's treasure in it." 

Lord Dark laughed. "Good heavens, no! It's just a piece of Victorian whimsy. Do you think, once you've got your coats on, one of you could let her know she's wasting her time?" 

"Of course," Edward said. "Won't we, Tracey?" He nudged his friend. "Tracey?" 

"That's not the statue you were making before," Tracey said. "What happened to it?" 

"This?" Lord Dark looked down at the fleur-de-lys he was carving. "I've been working on this all day." 

"But there was one like a frog." She appealed to Edward. "There was, wasn't—" 

She was cut off by a distant shriek, and a splash. 

"The well!" Lord Dark jumped to his feet. "It sounds as if there's been an accident. Come on, you two. Miss Hawk may need our help!" 

⁂

By the time the party reached the well, a drenched and filthy Miss Hawk had succeeded in extricating herself from it, by means of the safety rope she had prudently tied around her waist before starting her explorations. Her hard hat was, presumably, still in the well — there was certainly no trace of it now. 

"My dear Miss Hawk!" Lord Dark exclaimed, as he came running up. "Whatever happened?" 

Miss Hawk pushed wet hair and pondweed out of her eyes. "Ask them," she said, directing a loathing gaze at Edward and Tracey. "I was halfway down the steps when one of those little brats pushed me." 

"We didn't!" Edward protested. 

"I know you didn't." Lord Dark said. "Miss Hawk, I can vouch for both these children. They were in my workshop at the moment you fell into the well." 

"Someone pushed me," Miss Hawk insisted. "And you're the only three people on the estate, aren't you?" 

"Maybe it was a ghost," Tracey suggested. 

Miss Hawk shot her a glare of pure hatred. "That isn't funny." 

"To return to the point," Lord Dark said. "You accuse my son, or his young friend here, of pushing you into the well? And you accuse me of lying when I exonerate them?" 

"Yes, I do! Now, will you stop acting the fool and help me?" 

"Certainly not." Lord Dark drew himself up. "Our company is obviously not to your taste. I suggest you leave without delay, and do not return until you are prepared to make us all a suitable apology." 

Miss Hawk seemed to weigh various possible remarks in her mind, but in the end made only a brief, wordless noise in her throat and stormed off, her boots squelching. 

"That was great, father," Edward said. 

"I dislike using the grand manner," Lord Dark said. "But she definitely deserved it. Throwing accusations around like that. Doubtless she slipped on one of the steps and invented the rest of the story herself. Now, come along: it's starting to rain." 

"I don't see why she was looking for the Tall Knight's treasure in the well, anyway," Edward said. "The well wasn't there until hundreds of years later." He considered the matter. "Maybe she thought great-great-grandfather had found the treasure and hid it when he built the new well." 

"Or maybe she's just crackers," Tracey said, as she followed them. 

After the three had departed, silence reigned in the Sunk Garden. If Lord Dark or his young friends had waited a few minutes, they might have seen the marble, vaguely froglike creature hop out of the tangled undergrowth and take its place on the wellhead. Even though this well was not the hiding place of ten thousand Rhenish guilders, the spirit that still brooded over the original perhaps felt it amusing to provide a lesser sentinel for this antiquarian's copy. 

The well's guardian perched in the correct place, looking as if it had always been there. One eye turned in the direction that Miss Hawk had taken, and, just before the creature stiffened into immobility, favoured the vanished treasure-hunter with a generous wink.


End file.
